The Death of CPB Is Not the End

By Loris Taylor

The announcement that the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) will begin shutting down operations due to a lack of federal funding has sent shockwaves throughout the nation. Yet, for all the gravity of this moment, we must reject the notion that this marks the end. The death of CPB is not the end of local media. It may be the jolt that strengthens our resolve, accelerates innovation, and forges new partnerships that sustain our voices well into the future.

We extend our deepest gratitude to CPB for nearly six decades of unwavering service. CPB has been a steadfast champion of local journalism, educational programming, community storytelling, and Indigenous voices. Its support helped Tribal and rural stations build capacity, elevate underrepresented perspectives, and connect citizens to information they can trust. The legacy of CPB lives on in every community that has ever turned to its local station for clarity, comfort, and connection.

Let us be clear, public media stations are not a federal burden, nor are they redundant in a world of endless content. They are lifelines. They are cultural anchors. They are trusted messengers during moments of crisis, educational partners in communities with few resources, and storytellers of identity in places where silence once prevailed.

In Tribal and rural communities, especially, public media fills a void left by commercial disinterest and governmental neglect. These stations provide local news when no one else will, translate emergency alerts into Indigenous languages, and broadcast Native voices and values that other platforms ignore. What some in Washington label as “waste,” we recognize as irreplaceable infrastructure for democracy, safety, and cultural survival.

The end of CPB funding is painful, but it is not paralyzing. It may push the public media sector to reimagine itself not as a government-funded service, but as a dynamic, community-owned ecosystem. We now have a chance to expand alliances with Tribal governments, philanthropic institutions, tech innovators, and grassroots movements. Together, we can build a new framework for sustainability, one that honors the unique role our stations play.

Across Indian Country and other underserved areas, we’ve never waited for permission to tell our stories. We’ve built stations with duct tape, second-hand equipment, bootstrapped programming with local volunteers, and weathered political storms with resilience and creativity. That spirit will carry us now.

The dismantling of CPB is not a time for despair. It is a time for recalibration. For funders, it is a moment to lean in, not retreat. For communities, it is a call to stand with their local stations. For station leaders, it is an opportunity to reassert our value and vision.

The end of CPB is not the end of public media. It is the beginning of a new chapter. A more inclusive, responsive, and resilient one, built not in the halls of Congress, but in the hearts of the people we serve. We will endure. Thank you, CPB.